


Lovecats

by ghostflora



Category: Collar x Malice (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Trauma, Spoilers, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostflora/pseuds/ghostflora
Summary: They gave her a cat that never speaks, but he's very sweet.





	Lovecats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HannaM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/gifts).



They gave her a pet cat with long, silky hair. He had a name once, she thinks, but she no longer remembers it. No one uses it.

He's sweet, her cat… he comes close and cries for attention, or rubs up against her as if to comfort her. Something wet touches her cheek--oh, a tongue? He licks her a few times, and it's cute.

She gently bats him away. What's he doing? Grooming? She looks into the green eyes of a curious cat and runs her fingers through his soft hair.

Her hand. Oh, it's dirty…

There is blood...

There is blood on her clothes and on the floor… and the wall, isn't there? Her cat's pretty fur will get dirty, she thinks, and bangs on the door.

“Stop making a fuss… Ah. You need a bath. You reek, my dear friend.”

Good. Her skirts are so messy. There is dirt and blood...

\-- _and screaming, and gunshots--_

...splattered and caked onto her dress. It used to be white, but now it's a tea-stained color.

Her friend will replace it soon, she thinks. He always does. He will smile, put red flowers in her hair, and bring her drinks that burn and warm a dead body.

She is a corpse with a heartbeat. She's forgotten her name, and her cat never speaks. Newer executors call her the bloody bride, but she's… not sure why… Her mind is a red, slippery place, these days. She wonders if her old friend is her husband. (He put the ring on her neck, didn't he?)

Her very sweet cat follows her into the bathroom.

Cats get bored when you forget to play with them, and then they do silly things to entertain themselves, like play with toilet paper and climb in the bathtub. Perhaps that's why, when she sits on the edge of the metal vat, her cat crawls beneath her skirt.

She can feel him shifting below the dangling fabric. Below stains. Below skin.

Her voice cracks when she speaks, her mouth full of gunpowder and smoke, “What are you looking for?”

He pushes back her filthy skirts and stares up at her. His mouth parts, but as always, there's no sound. 

On his knees, he's not so dreadfully tall anymore. His white shirt falls from his shoulders and his slender hand rests on her slippers…

Something pleasant shoots through her veins, and she smiles.

His eyes widen with… with…?

She doesn't remember what it's called, but the emotion in his eyes shifts to something so painful that it stings her eyes, too. She leans over, and places both hands on his neck and feels his heart race.

She's gentle. Not like a collar. But his mouth begins to tremble, and his hollow throat moves when he swallows.

Perhaps it's strange to give your kitty a kiss, but it's all she can do now.

Below the red, smooth surface of her mind is a dark, quiet place full of open graves and fetid corpses and the burning knowledge that they were never free to do this  _back then._

He crawls forward, her naughty kitty, looking to play as he hikes up her skirt, revealing one white knee, and kisses her skin.

It's ticklish, and... warm? This strange and delightful feeling spreads through her in a wave, and even touches her voice as she says, “There's… nothing to find...”

This is not true.

He's sweet, her cat… he comes close and slips beneath her skirt again, her thighs parting as he licks her. He comes close and rubs between her legs, making her feel warmer and better than before.

Their bath must wait, she thinks. Perhaps her cat wants to put off the bath entirely, but even if he distracts her, there will be no escape.

She gasps against his warm mouth and pulls back her skirt.

He's lovely on his knees, and she wishes he could speak, could moan, but he can't.

Her pulse running frantic, she pushes her fingers through his silky fur again and again. The caramel color is ruined by sticky red.

One day, she will place a gun against his temple.

One of day, she'll save him.

**Author's Note:**

> I was interested in the way Ichika pointedly avoided saying Shiraishi's name in this ending, and the way it tied into people having numbers instead of names in Adonis... What if Ichika continued to lose herself? After some debate, I decided not to give Ichika a number, though, because she was very special to Zero. Hope it works for you~ 
> 
> Happy Halloween!


End file.
